by Brandie
Well, Sap misses you, and so do I. Chocolate, I can’t help but think about that night we . . . never mind . . . it’s done and over wit’. But sometimes I wonder if everything would be different?
Call me. Hurry home, and don’t get caught up with them northern hoes. Beep.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chocolate
“This a nice li’l place. The food is good.”
“Yeah, I found out about it last year. My ex brought me here.” She said ex like it was a disease.
“How long an ex?” I inquired, just in case I wanted to take a chance.
“Six months.”
“That’s not an ex, Chaise. That’s an argument waiting for some bumping and grinding, then everything is back rolling.”
“Man, please. I’m not about to read that book twice. If I read it twice, somebody gon’ have to shoot the shit out of me.”
We both laughed about the situation.
“So, Chinoe, how did you get the name Chocolate? You’re not dark.”
“My mom wanted a chocolate, dark-skinned boy. She thinks dark skin is the most beautiful thing.”
“What’s her complexion?”
“She’s high yellow. And I have to agree with my mom—dark skinned sisters are some of the most beautiful women in the world. I wish someone would tell me why we are so crazy about yellow, red-skin complexions. Don’t get me wrong, all shades of black are beautiful.”
“Umm, I guess that means I fit the bill, huh?”
I just smiled. I really didn’t want to get into that kind of conversation.
“So, Chaise, tell me about how you started taking pictures.”
“Well, I use to model when I was younger, but the industry seemed like it was taking control of my life. I never slept, hardly ate, and I was always fighting to keep my panties up and my dress down.”
“Ha! Ha! Ha! Bet that was hard, huh?”
She hit my arm like we were old buddies. “So how did you get started modeling?”
“Why you gettin’ off the subject? Finish telling me about your dress being up and your panties being down.”
“I am safest on the other side of the camera. I don’t have to sell myself, just some one else.”
“Oh, so what you tryin’ to say? You think I’m selling myself?”
“You are. Women and men aren’t looking at the outfits in these magazines. The first thing they see is body shapes and faces, all mirages of fake tales—fake hair, overly used makeup, and computerized tummy tucks. And that’s what makes consumers buy the clothes, hoping they’ll make them look like you guys.”
“Hmmm. You have done your homework.”
“No, Chinoe, I lived it. Just be careful and don’t let this game pimp or play you; you make the first move.”
After we ate, she took me to some shops so that I could buy gifts. I saw a black Barbie with a New York T-shirt on. Sap loved dolls so I knew that would be a perfect gift for her. I also picked up a pink sweatshirt for her with New York written in glitter and her name printed on the back.
“Chinoe, you have kids?”
“Oh, naw. This is for my goddaughter.”
“What’s her name?”
“Sap. Sapphire.”
“How old is she?”
“Grown,” I said laughing. “She’s three. Ahhh . . . she’ll be four in May.”
“So you and her father are like brothers?”
She’s trying to pick me, figure me out. I don’t like to be picked. “No, her mother and I are like sister and brother.”
“Oh, okay.” She didn’t look convinced, not that I cared. “Your girlfriend doesn’t mind?”
“Mind? She doesn’t have a choice. Luvly has been there since I was in the ninth grade. She’s going to be there no matter what.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you get on the defensive.”
“You cool. Lots of women seem to have a problem wit’ men and women being best friends. She’s good-looking, but I don’t look at her like that.”
“Have you ever?”
“For a hot second.”
She got quiet. Did she get offended by my answer?
I put my arm around her. “Ahh, girl, lighten up.”
She gave me a fake-ass smile.
We ended up at a jewelry store. There was a diamond and sapphire bracelet for two thousand dollars—not bad, and it was sizeable. Sap could wear it now and add to it later. Perfect birthday gift.
I bought my mom and Haven coach bags, T-shirts, and Luvly some Prada boots and matching purse.
Chaise had a distant look on her face. “You straight?” I asked her.
“Yeah, I’m okay. I was tryin’a get all up in yo’ business without an invitation. Sorry.”
“No problem.”
By this time it was 9:30 p.m., and I was exhausted. We had an early shoot the next morning and her hotel was on the other side of the city.
“Chaise, I’m not trying to get in your drawers or nothing, but would you like to stay with me? I mean in my room tonight. I know you tired, and my room is just up the block.”
She smiled and put her arm around my neck. “Sure. But don’t be tryin’ to sneak a peek.”
“Ha!Ha!Ha! Naw, it ain’t even like that.” Even though I wasn’t looking to get involved, I couldn’t help looking at that fat ass of hers.
“Let me run in this shop and buy me a nightgown and an outfit for tomorrow.”
After she got the necessities for the night we went to my suite.
“Chinoe, this is nicer than mine.”
“Yeah, right. You probably got a condo.”
“No, really. You have a bedroom and a living room; a Jacuzzi in the middle of the floor and all. They must be giving you the platinum package.”
“The shower’s in there. I’ll call us up some food.”
She went into the bathroom and turned on the shower.
“What do you want?”
I could barely hear her. “A cheese steak and fries, honey mustard sauce for my fries, extra cheese and onions, and a pickle.”
“And to drink?” I walked closer to the door so I could hear her. She opened the door so fast I couldn’t look away. She’s fine as hell! Her hips were like Jessica Rabbit’s. Her breasts were average, but full. And the natural sag made them beautiful. Her thighs plump and juicy, I wanted to make a move, but I promised myself that I would be good and try to get into Haven, try to make her the one.
“My bad, Chaise.” I said, still staring at her, trying to act like it was okay. “I just couldn’t hear you over the water.”
“I’m not asking for an apology. I’ll have grapefruit juice.”
She closed the door, and I closed my eyes. I wanted to see that body again. I wanted her to walk out and pose for my eyes.
Ring . . . Ring . . . Ring.
“Hello.”
“What’s up, nigga?”
“Just chillin’. About to turn in so I can do this shoot in the morning. How your interview go with Al Michaels?”
“It went smooth. I’m jus’ tired of all the same questions. Can’t they watch one interview and not ask the same shit—like my answer is going to change?”
Chaise cut the shower off, singing a Rachel Ferrell song.
“Who is that with the sweet voice?”
“It ain’t what you think, boy; she’s my photographer.”
“Umm hmm, nigga, I bet she is taking pictures. Nude pictures?”
“Man, she about twenty minutes from her hotel, and it was gettin’ late.” Why was I explaining to this fool about something that’s nothing?
“Late, my ass. Chocolate, I knew you was lyin’, nigga. You about to screw that girl.”
“She fine, but she ain’t that gold.”
“You ain’t gon’ ever find no pot of gold if you don’t test it out first. Nigga, I swear you get the baddest dimes and don’t do shit with ’em. But anyway, I called to tell you to get me some of that new Phat Farm, and Mecca, that ain’t on the street
yet. Jeans and sweats.”
“Nigga, I ain’t y’all personal shopper.” I laughed at my own joke. “I’m already on it, though. Hopefully, after my shoot in the morning I can get ’em and be out.”
“I thought you weren’t coming back until Monday afternoon.”
“Chaise said she works fast.”
“I bet Chaise do.” We both laughed.
“Chocolate, do you have some lotion?” She asked, massaging her thighs like they were already full of lubricant.
“Nigga, you crazy. Chaise, my boy Money said hello.”
“Tell him I said hello.” She found the lotion but was interrupted by the thought of who Money was. “Money Loane? Falcon player?”
“Yeah.”
“Damn, he fine as hell! Um um um.”
“Man, I ’on’t wanna hear all that.”
“Tell shawty I’m feelin’ ’er.”
“Late’a.”
“Late’a.”
“I didn’t know you and Money Loane were best friends.”
“Yeah, since fourth grade.”
“Did you order the food?”
“Oh, naw. Damn! Money called and threw me off track.”
After I ordered the food Chaise took me by surprise. “Chinoe, will you rub some lotion on my back?” Is she trying to give me a heart attack or what?
Ring . . . Ring . . . Ring.
The phone interrupted, saving me from cheating on Haven.
“Chaise, be quiet . . . please. It might be my girlfriend, and I don’t want her to get the wrong idea.”
She nodded her head in agreement, and then pointed at her legs, motioning for me to rub lotion on them.
“Chinoe, speaking.”
“Hey, Babe, what’s up?”
“Nothing, lovely lady. What’s up with you?”
“Just chillin’. How’s your trip going?”
My lips started watering from my fingers touching Chaise’s thighs. The way she was staring at me told me that she was enjoying it more than I was.
“Chocolate?” Luvly detected the distraction in my voice.
“Oh, yeah. Yeah, it’s cool.”
“Are you busy?”
“Naw.” Chaise turned over so that her healthy ass lay open in my face. I wanted to just stick my face all in it and smell it—I’m trippin’!
“So you gon’ get my Via Spiegel boots and purse?”
“Are you staying alive?”
“Yeah, I think I’m going to have to get a restraining order.”
“I’ve heard that ‘restraining order’ story too many times.”
“Chocolate, will you please get me my boots and purse. And don’t forget something for my baby. She been buggin’ me about when you comin’ back and what you gonna bring her.”
“You would forget her before I would.” She hesitated like she wanted to say something else but didn’t.
“Bye, Babe.”
“Bye, Babe.”
Chaise looked back at me with an inquisitive look on her face. She slid her legs away from me. “Was that your girlfriend?”
“No, Luvly. But let me call her though, since you are being a good girl.” I patted her on the ass.
Talking to Chaise was kinda like talking to Luvly—a sister. Except Luvly wasn’t trying to get at me romantically.
It was 12:27 a.m. and I wanted to talk to my baby.
Ring . . . Ring . . . Ring.
Haven’s phone rang about five times before it was answered.
“Hello.” A male voice answered sounding sleep.
What the fuck? Who the fuck? I looked over at the clock again, 12:29 a.m.
“Hello?” The male said, clearing his throat.
I was debating, if I said something, would he hang up or give Haven the phone. Nine times out of ten, we would have exchanged some nasty words and then Haven would have some lame excuse to throw at me.
I heard Haven lazily say, “Who is it?”
“Hello,” he said again. “Muthafucka’s playing on the phone.”
“Hang up, Baby.” And he hung up.
“Ain’t that ’bout a bitch.”
“Huh?” Chaise asked me.
“Nothing. Talkin’ to myself.”
“Do you want a massage?”
I did need one, but right then I was too tense to be relieved. “No, thank you. Let me ask you a question.”
“Shoot.”
“If your man was good to you—bought you everything, took you anywhere, gave all the money necessary, no kids and was a virgin, would you cheat?”
She stared at me for a few minutes, trying to figure out if the scenario was mine, but I could tell the virgin part had her stuck.
“Virgin? He’s all that and still fresh? Pure? Hell, I might lock his ass away on an island and have twenty babies from his ass.”
“Yeah, that’s what I would think.” I smiled because as much as she was joking it sounded like a nice invite.
“But the real question would be, does he love me? Truly. Not just being in a relationship until the real thing comes along.”
Damn! She read right through me.
“Chinoe, you a virgin?” She sat up and had the same look on her face as when she found out I was on the phone with Money.
In a cocky ’tude, I said, “If I am?”
“Can I be your first?” She looked at me dead serious, and after a few seconds, busted out laughing. “I’m just playin’. Lighten up; I ain’t gon’ take your goods.”
“I think Haven got a nigga over there.” All this ass was in my face, and I was stressing out over a piece of ass I hadn’t had.
“That’s your girlfriend, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, you’re here and she’s there. Sooooo . . . you won’t know unless someone can go over and knock on the door right now.” Chaise had a mischievous grin on her face. “Or I can call and pretend to ask for someone and play her into telling.”
Man, I was too old for these games. I’d never done no bitch shit like that. I always had women doing that type shit to me. But my gut feelings were telling me that she had some lame dude over. But I didn’t even care about this girl, so why was I trippin? This girl was handling my money, about to live in my house. Shidd.
“Hell, yeah. Do yo’ thang, Chaise. You know how connivin’ y’all women can be.”
“Don’t hate the Player, hate the game. And ya’ll men aren’t far behind; y’all just don’t like to let a woman know how far-whipped or strung out y’all are.”
“Not me.”
She looked at me with a smirk on her face. “Look at what you are about to do.”
“Feelings are not the factor here. This girl is handling a lot of my money and my house. I need to know whether this a business or pleasure relationship.”
She smacked her lips. “What’s the little heifer’s number?”
“Call from your cell phone. She got all that ID shit on her phone.”
Haven picked up on the second ring.
“May I speak to Haven?”
“This is she; who’s speaking?”
“This is Lauren. I’m calling from Platinum Impressions Agency. I need to know if Chinoe Starr is available.”
Haven hesitated for a moment. Then whispering into the phone, “This isn’t his number.”
“He had your number down for an emergency contact.”
“Oh . . . what do you need me to tell him?”
“Can you write down a message and number for him?”
“Sure. Kal, give me a pencil and piece of paper.”
Chaise’s eyes got big, and she put her finger over the receiver and whispered, “Kal?”
“Who?” I said out loud, unable to control my anger.
Chaise motioned for me to be quiet. “Hello, Lauren. Go ahead.”
“Yes, we need him Tuesday for a shoot.”
“Ok. Thank you.”
Chaise put the phone down. My heart was in my stomach, thinking that this ho could run off with all my money.
How could I have been so stupid?
“Come on, Chinoe,” Chaise motioned. “Lay down right here.” Chaise pulled my head down into her lap. My head felt good on her cushiony thighs. “Chinoe, maybe it was her family or something.”
“Ain’t no nigga gon’ be at no woman house at one in the morning and nothing be goin’ on! And it ain’t no damn family. I heard her call him baby. They were in the bed.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“Bust her ass.”
“You just started your career. Think this thing through. Pop up. You leaving early. She thinks you coming back Monday night.”
Bam there it was. Women were always scheming.
“Can I just say that she’s losing out on the most beautiful brother I’ve ever met?”
When the food arrived, we ate with the Evans family. Silence was caught in both our throats. We watched J.J. do his Dyn-O-Mite routine, and Thelma’s fine ass parade back and forth.
It was almost 2 a.m. and I was tired, frustrated, and horny. And Chaise, was lying next to me with next to nothing on, and her butt cheeks playing peek-a-boo me.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chocolate
When I pulled up in front of the ESPN Zone at 7:45 Sunday night, Money was already macking. Women were lined up along his Lexus oohing and ahhing.
“What’s up, Cash Money?” We dapped each other, and the girls lit up.
“Ooh, you play ball, too?” a tall, statuesque woman asked.
“Who do you play for?” a short, stout girl with weave down to her butt wanted to know.
“You married?” another attractive young lady inquired.
One girl was just plain bold; “Hey, you wanna fuck? I live right up the street.”
“Naw, boo, I’m straight.”
She licked her big bubble-lips, “All right, but my name is Tootsie—whenever you ready,” then she stuck out her long lizard-tongue to top it off.
“Man, get outta this gold-digga magnet and bring yo’ ass.”
Money parked and got out smiling. “This is the land of opportunity,” he laughed. “So what’s going on with Miss Haven?”
“Man, fuck her! She dead to me.”
Taeko pulled up and jumped out the car all hyped. “Hey, Dawg, when you get back?”